Halloween is my one true love in a year. Every year, I go all out. I’m talking graveyard scenes, life-sized skeletons, lights, fog machines, the works.
But there was no getting out of it. The plan was to be back November 1, so I figured, hey, at least the neighbors could still enjoy the setup.
But fate had other plans. After some scheduling miracle, I ended up coming home early/ I was thrilled, picturing myself handing out candy to kids in their little costumes.
When I got home, though, something was… crazy. My house stole my decoration home.
Then I glanced across the street and saw it: My skeletons. My graveyard tombstones. My inflatable pumpkin. And there, right in the middle of my neighbor’s front yard, was my 8-foot spider staring back at me.
Now and then, I was standing near the window to see the scene across the street. Her house, covered in my decorations, with kids running up to her door, their parents complimenting her on the spooky setup.
Finally, around midnight, the street started to quiet down.
My neighbor’s house went dark, too, and I watched as her last group of visitors left, waving and chattering on their way down the street.
This was it. It was time.
I didn’t wait till morning. My heart pounded as I approached her white fence. The cool metal of the spray can in my hand felt electric. I took a deep breath, looked over my shoulder one more time, and shook the can.
I even added some dramatic dripping paint lines for effect, making it look like the words were bleeding right down her fence.
The next morning, I watched from my window, sipping my coffee and feeling the sweet sting of justice. There, right in front of Sandra’s house, my bold, bright-red message still gleamed across her white fence.
A small group of judges from the neighborhood council began strolling down our street. They had clipboards in hand, eyes scanning each house as they judged our Halloween decor.
I could hear one of them mumble, “She really did steal them?” to another.
I grinned, feigning innocence. “Oh, well, Halloween means a lot to me. I go all out every year. You know, I just wanted to give the neighborhood something spooky and memorable.”
“Well, you’ve certainly given us something memorable, dear. I think it’s safe to say, you’ve earned the title of Best Decorated House this year.” She winked. “Sandra’s fence really… added something, didn’t it?”
I nodded, holding back laughter. “I suppose you could say it was a collaborative effort.”
“This is absurd!” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. “She vandalized my property!”
One of the judges turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “So, did you actually take her decorations?”
“Well, it seems you’ve learned a little lesson about asking permission,” Mrs. Delaney said firmly, raising an eyebrow. “And we’re awarding the prize to the rightful owner of those decorations.” She turned back to me and gave a nod of approval.
I just shrugged, holding back a smile. “Happy Halloween, Sandra.”
